


Mutual Loathing

by Darkorangecat (Calacious)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Drabble Collection, Gen, Hate, Humorous, Ridiculous, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-03
Updated: 2009-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-15 00:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4585890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calacious/pseuds/Darkorangecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten one hundred word drabbles based on Crookshanks' and Scabbers' feelings toward each other during Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mutual Loathing

**Author's Note:**

> Theme: Damage
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or setting belonging to J.K. Rowling s Harry Potter series; this disclaimer applies to each drabble.

1\. Wounded

The pain was nearly unendurable, but Scabbers was not going to give that hellcat of Hermione's the satisfaction of knowing that it had succeeded in wounding him.

It would be a cold day in hell before he acknowledged that. No, he would feign death until Ron freaked out and tore Crookshanks off his mangled body.

If only the damnable cat would stop tossing him around like some dilapidated rag doll. _Why is it that cats always play with their food? Where the hell is Ron, shouldn't the gangly teen have made his way into the dorm to rescue him already?_

* * *

 

2\. Scratches

The incessant **scritch, scratch, scritch, scratch** that Scabbers made as he attempted yet another short-lived escape from his ever watchful eyes was driving him absolutely crazy.

He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that something was not right about this rat which dwelt in the boys' dormitory.

It smelt oddly human and Crookshanks was going to get to the bottom of it.

Hermione was not the only one gifted with a keen sensibility and sound mind.

He, even if it did seem a bit prideful, was half-kneazle after all, not an ordinary cat by any stretch of the imagination.

* * *

 

3\. Claws

Crookshanks basked in the moonlight, admiring how his claws glowed in the gossamer light as it glinted off the curve of each razor-sharp nail.

He was meticulous in his grooming; taking extraordinary measures to hone each and every barbed nail with inordinate care.

He needed to make sure that each set of claws remained fully functional at all times.

That rat which Hermione's loud, red-haired friend so ardently protected was an abomination.

As Crookshanks pulled at a snag in one of his nails, ensuring its razor-sharp quality, he imagined it slicing into that blasted rat and dripping wet with blood.

* * *

 

4\. Torn

Crookshanks couldn't believe it. After all this time, finally, the rat that didn't smell like a rat was gone.

Really, in spite of the red-head's loud protests, it was the best thing that could've happened.

Now, if only Crookshanks could ensure that his sworn enemy's disappearance took on a more permanent state.

One thing he was certain of was that if that rat wannabe ever showed its pointy nose in Gryffindor Tower, it would be his very last mistake.

Crookshanks would tear him apart. That non-rat would rue the day they had crossed paths when his body was torn asunder.

* * *

 

5\. Shred

_Shredder, now that was a character one could get behind,_ Scabbers thought to himself.

He had come across the strange Muggle film featuring mutant turtles with Ninja powers on one of his attempts to escape that damnable hellcat. Imagine what that powerful Ninja, almost as powerful as the Dark Lord himself, dare he even think it, would do to Crookshanks. He almost laughed aloud in unabashed glee as he imagined Shredder treating the overgrown cat to a taste of its own medicine. The self-promulgated hellion would learn the meaning of the word 'shred' at the hands of the 'master' Shredder.

* * *

 

6\. Knives

That half-kneazle, Crookshanks, was nothing more than an overgrown lump of matted fur.

Albeit a lump of fur with razor-sharp claws which could cut through him like knives wielded by a bloodthirsty assassin bent on his personal destruction.

Even so, Crookshanks didn't have the ability to transform into a human as Scabbers did.

Wait a minute, that's not quite right…no, it wasn't Scabbers who had the ability to transform from this less than comely physique to that of a human, but rather Peter Pettigrew who had the ability to transform.

He was a wizard! Crookshanks, sharp claws and all, wasn't.

* * *

 

7\. Mace

What was that ambrosial aroma accosting his nostrils and from whence did it arise?

Crookshanks stretched lazily in the early rays of the sun, popping one eye open in the hopes of spying the proprietor of the spicy scent.

He had made himself at home in the owlry in the hopes of capturing the red-haired one's 'pet'.

An ill-advised pet a non-rat made, he shook the kinks out of his neck and yawned, a sleepy mewl escaped him and he quickly looked around the owlry sighing in relief when he realized that, save for the owls, he was completely alone.

* * *

 

8\. Bleed

He would make him bleed. Spill the black red blood from the meddling fuzz bucket's twisted veins.

The bushy-haired girl was on that mangy cat's side, how long before Ron would join the ranks against him.

Well, he would just have to take matters into his own hands, er…paws.

Damn that blasted cat! It was after him again and about to pounce on Ron to get to him.

_Enough is enough! Oops, didn't mean to bite him quite that hard…sorry Ron, but gotta run._

_I'm sure his finger will stop bleeding soon, it's not like I have rabies or anything._

* * *

 

9\. Yell

_Why is the red-haired teenage wizard yelling at me?_

_I'm not the one who bit him; it was that precious non-rat fiend of his._

_If only I could talk and explain to him that the non-rat is not what he seems._

_He is not looking out for his master's good, like a pet should, but is only protecting his own skinny rat tail._

_It's not like I haven't tried to make his selfish agenda known to his human counterpart, but the red-head is either too dense to understand or caught under some spell which renders one incapable of sound reasoning._

* * *

 

10\. Rip

_Damn that chthonian cat and its cuspidate claws! When the hell had he learned such variegated vocabulary?_

_Oh yeah, that greasy good for nothing Snape. Professor, hah!_

_Too bad Ron lugged him on various detentions with him._

_And how had the jackanapes repaid him?_

_By letting that devilish behemoth of a cat rip into him with its contemptible claws, that's how! O_

_ne thing was for sure, he would have his revenge on all of them when he resumed his true form, though he did rather enjoy the anonymity his animagus form afforded him._

_Peter Pettigrew was not a pushover, really._

 


End file.
